Lutèce
by GusCGC
Summary: Sequel to HoND. Thirty years ago, Paris was almost destroyed by a large monster. Now, its skull hangs in front of Notre Dame like a dark omen that something is about to happen. Preparing for the king's arrival, all of Paris will have to remember that some tragedies don't disappear with the snow. Reviews!
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Little to say, lots to research. Welcome aboard!

* * *

 **1\. Courtaud**

 _1450._

Paris is under siege. The surrounding forests around the town have proven to be home of a large group of blood-thirsty beasts. Travelers aren't safe and farmers are at the end of their ropes. As winter gets nigh, people ask help from their king but little answer is given. Everyone's too afraid to take action against these monsters. The inhabitants of Paris can't take it no more, they have to do something about this plague or else, their beautiful town will perish and drown in streets filled with blood. The mayor is not helping so a small band of men decide to set a trap for the creatures and lure them to the heart of the city, to the small square in front of Notre Dame, where they shall finish business with these beasts.

Using sheep as bait, they are able to attract the pack to the insides of Paris and trap them in a small enclosure, where they began to cleave and slash the throats of the monsters until only their leader is standing. Known as "Courtaud", this huge predator has been the nightmare of France for years and, if he has to fall, he'll take his enemies with him. Blood and fur fly around as nobody is strong enough to beat Courtaud. Not even the guards are match for the beast. All seems lost when a single blade is able to pierce the neck of the monster. Defeated, the black animal falls over his conqueror still bearing his teeth. The young man quickly ties the jaws of Courtaud as he remembers the words of a wise hunter: " _Cut off a wolf's head and it still has the power to bite_ ". Battle is over and Paris has won. Loses are heavy, forty people have fallen, but finally they are free.

The captain of the guard slices Courtaud's head with his sword and takes it to the Palace of Justice to serve as a souvenir of the dead creature. The people of France rejoice and the king watches as his people drive other wild beasts out of the surrounding forests. As the years go by and only the skull remains, the story of the large monsters becomes legend and its characters become werewolves and holy hunters. Danger is no longer in the air or so they think.

More than twenty years have passed since the passing of that winter and today the new Minister of Justice has allowed to commoners to hang the skull on a pike. Many laugh, others throw vegetables and many ignore the improvised altar. But not all have forgotten that harsh winter. There is one man who remembers the black animal and still feels its teeth against his skin. Courtaud might be good and dead but he can still bite. After all, he was always too smart to be just a common wolf and those who forget that are bound to die between his jaws.

The bells are ringing. It's time to enjoy the morning and see that some coins are earned, perhaps he will tell the story of the wolf pack. He's not sure but, as he crosses the square, Clopin, king of gypsies, notices something falling from one of the eyes of the skull… A bloody teardrop. They might have started to celebrate too soon the departure of Courtaud and his minions. The large beast has not said its last.

* * *

Bonjour, mes amis!

Time to make my own attempt of a decent sequel for the HoND, and to do so I use a real-life story. Yes, the tale of the wolf pack is absolutely real and promises to keep you in your seats.

Enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Little to say, again. Details from the wonderful "Brotherhood of the Wolf" and music of Majora's Mask playing in the background. Let's go!

 **1\. Skin-Walkers**

* * *

 _1487._

Captain Phoebus stood really still as the new Minister of Justice inspected his troops. Five years after the Great Battle of Notre Dame, Paris had returned to its usual self and, after the death of the previous king, the new Charles the 8th had decided to choose a trusty figure to put order in the capital. A young monarch was always welcome, but perhaps this one was too young and had decided a little too quickly, but Phoebus and his men said nothing. Due to the king's poor health, a regent had been designed and Charles 'older sister, Anne, quickly became the best candidate. The new minister was a man around his fifties, named Jehan, who knew the Royal Court like the back of his hand. The benefits of being a regular in the Royal Hunts during the reign of the previous monarch often had those effects.

Judge Jehan's first order had been to put the famous Courtaud skull on a pole in front of Notre Dame. Apparently, he saw no harm in putting "a rotten bone for the people to play with". His dislike for gypsies was obvious from the very start but he did praise Phoebus for being able "to tame one and make it useful". Esmeralda obviously didn't like it one bit, but was happy to hear that the new minister had ordered his guards to be more lenient with her people, as long as they didn't commit crime worth the pyre or the noose. The Captain and his wife had now a child to look after, with probably another on the way, and they tried their best to keep the boy's good relationship with his dear Oncle Clopin, along with the bell-ringer, Quasimodo, who was like a big brother to the child.

A royal visit was in sight, and thus Jehan left nothing in the air. Not even the looks of the main cathedral and his inhabitants.

"So, tell me, captain. Is the bell-ringer a man you can trust? And I really mean trust. Our king needs people willing to give their lives"

"I wouldn't doubt Quasi's honor, not even for three seconds, Your Highness" Phoebus stood before Jehan's desk. "He saved my life and Paris whole"

"So I see. I've also heard he's a hunchback and was adopted by my predecessor"

"Yes, sir"

"Have you got any idea of his parents, Captain? Their whereabouts? Where was this Quasimodo born?"

"No, sir. I don't have that much information" Phoebus had heard from Quasi himself a thing or two, but not much. If his friend was borne gypsy, that really didn't matter.

"I'm not saying that his origins lessen his courage or honor, but we must be sure. Gypsies are now a faction to consider and we must know their numbers"

"He became an orphan shortly after he was borne, Your Honor. He grew up inside the cathedral with the Archdeacon, the gargoyles and the previous minister, Frollo"

"Very well" Jehan nodded and glanced through his window. He could see the cathedral from there. "Do you know why I decided to put that old skull in the plaza, Captain Phoebus?"

"No, Sir"

"I saw it as a sign. People needed to know that their famous beast was just a regular wolf looking for food and nothing else. If they had the chance to see that, then they would focus in their chores. Their unholy monster is now dust and bone. Nothing Faith cannot defeat. Just like the gypsies"

"Do you happen to know who killed the beast?" asked Phoebus.

"According to legends, a holy man. According to the witnesses, a young man with a dagger killed Courtaud. They even say it was a Roma but I very much doubt it"

"…" Phoebus said nothing.

"You're dismissed, captain. Greet your darling wife from me" smiled Jehan and the captain bowed. Once at the square, Phoebus sighed but smiled. Quasimodo was playing with a large group of children and among them was his son, Pierre. They seemed so happy together. Despite not having found love, the bell-ringer had become the favorite companion of all the children in Paris. They loved to hear his stories and they played around him over and over. They seemed to have noticed the skull on the pole and made up a story along with a game around it.

"Papa!" Pierre ran to greet his father.

"Hey! How's my little hero coming along? Are you having fun?" Phoebus lifted his son and playfully held him around.

"Quasi's the best, Papa. Maman is with Oncle, she said that they had to prepare a few things for the arrival of the king"

"Glad to hear. Quasi!" the captain walked to his friend.

"Hey, hi! Just second, guys. How was your interview?" the bell ringer beamed.

"Boring, as expected. How was your morning?" the blonde man put his son on the ground.

"Boring, as expected" the hunchback mimicked him and Phoebus laughed. "Has the minister told you what's with the skull?"

"It belonged to a large wolf named Courtaud. I heard the story back in the war. Around twenty years ago, a harsh winter arrived in Paris. Famine and cold attracted a pack of wolves that terrorized the area for months until a few brave citizens were able to corner them and kill the beasts. Their leader was this big dog and was the last one to come down. Forty people died that night"

"Woof" Quasimodo was amazed along with the children.

"And who beat him?" asked one of the kids.

"Nobody knows. Apparently, the skull is here to celebrate that the beast is gone and so here it is" Phoebus shrugged.

"Well, it's quite big, I give him that" admitted the bell ringer. A familiar music caught the attention of the children. Clopin's puppet show was about to start and they didn't want to miss it. As they ran towards the cart, Quasimodo heard a flute playing in a corner. A man was leaning against the pole and he was playing a beautiful reed instrument. He seemed to be unaware of the activity around the square. The hunchback kept on walking until he heard the man singing.

" _Close your eyes,_

 _Let the wolf come near._

" _Round the Moon,_

 _She brings you cheer"_

 _Howls the Wolf,_

 _Howls the Wolf…_ "

"Hu?" Quasimodo turned run just in time to see that the man was missing an eye. Then, he was gone. Where did he go? The bell-ringer reached the street where Clopin was in his jester-attire entertaining the children. The Gypsy King knew his secret was now known by many, but as long as he could keep it from people like Jehan, it was enough. The puppet show was still his number one choice and having Pierre and Quasi among the crowd was a plus. Esmeralda was worried sick about the royal visit, but Clopin knew better. As long as he kept his nose hidden, all was fine. Once the show was over, Pierre went to say hi to his favorite relative.

"Oncle!" the little rascal jumped into the gypsy's arms.

" _Mon chèr_!" Clopin let him hung from his neck. "Ouch, ouch! Be careful, _mon enfant_. I'm not that young anymore" the puppeteer giggled.

"That story was great! It had romance, a bad guy and a good guy!"·

"So happy to oblige, _mon fantassin_. And here's my favorite hunchback. How's Paris 'best bell ringer'?"

"Good, good. We had a great morning, I played all my… All my chores and I went down the plaza. Phoebus told us then of this big wolf, right, Pierre?"

"Uh-hu" the boy nodded. "Do you know that story, Oncle?"

"There are many wolves round Paris, you should know that. Paris was once named Lutetia or Lutece, similar to Lupe or lupo. That's Latin for Wolf, _mon petites_ "

"Really?" Quasi blinked.

"This city was once a swamp, a hunting ground for wolves. It is no secret that they still live in the forests nearby. The Gauls named this place in their honor, along with the Romans" explained Clopin. "But I think you are talking about Courtaud, _n'est pas_?"

"Yes, that one!" nodded Pierre.

"As big as a pony, as terrible as a blizzard, black as the night and cunning like a man. _Oui_ , I remember. Twenty seven years now"

"Did you see it, Oncle?" asked the boy.

"Aye. That was a terrible night, I tell you. Esme was still a petit ange and I was still a young lad. Cold as hell it was that winter. The aristocrats had emptied the lands, making all the deer and animals flee. Wolves were hungry and came to town. It was a _cauchemar_ "

"But they defeated Courtaud, right? They did" Quasimodo spoke. "His head's in the square"

"I wish we hadn't, _mes amies_ " whispered Clopin. "But enough dwelling in the past!All this talk of hunting, makes me hungry! _J'ai faim_!" they started walking back to the square. Pierre ran back to his father.

"Yeah, me too. Especially after seeing that guy with the flute and singing songs about the moon and wolves" giggled the hunchback.

"Wait, _comment_?" Clopin stopped the young man in his tracks. "What man?"

"He was at the square, playing the flute. He was missing an eye. I didn't pay too much attention. Do you know him?"

" _Je ne suis pas sûr_. Ugh! Never mind! Let's go find Esme. I can't think with an empty stomach" the gypsy smiled and they kept on going. It was a lovely morning but a cloud had just appeared in Clopin's thoughts and that couldn't be good. "Fronsac"

* * *

The song is from director Tomm Moore.

Presenting new characters, new problems and old ones too. I checked the historical moment of 1897 to make sure of certain things, as well as the origins of Paris. Easter egg for all of those who have read the book.

I changed the name of Phoebus's son because Zephyr was too much for me.

More to come!


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: I'm keeping the dark tone of the original, because otherwise it loses meaning. Thank you all for stepping in. Let's go!

* * *

 **3\. Walking Shadow**

The sun began to set in the distance, as Quasimodo glanced from the top of the bell tower. It was a wonderful sight, nobody in Paris had such luck, and yet the boy wondered about Clopin. The gypsy had been in his usual jolly mood, but something seemed to bother him. Was he worried about the man in the square or the story of the wolf? That made no sense. Why would someone pay so much attention to a story of twenty seven years ago? Quasi sighed. He wasn't even born back then.

"Well, that was a fine day, Quasi! The kids, the bells, the friends, the mass… Geez, don't you ever consider taking a holiday? I'm tired of just listing it all" mumbled Hugo.

"You get tired even from sleeping" complained Laverne.

"Humm, that's not a bad idea. Can I get a break now?" demanded the pig gargoyle and got a smack in the head. "That'll do"

"Still, you don't seem happy, Quasi" Victor was confused. The taller gargoyle tilted his head.

"It's nothing, really"

"C'mon! You can tell us. No matter how bizarre or stupid it is. You know we can work it out together" the eldest statue smiled.

"Yeah, like my head" Hugo joked.

"Your head is beyond repair, face it" Laverne sighed and sat down near the bell ringer, followed by her usual crowd of pigeons. "Do tell, my boy"

"Well, it's Clopin. I know he's older than me and is capable of taking care of his problems, but something's off about him" the hunchback sat down. "This afternoon, he looked happy and as boisterous as ever, but he was upset about something. Normally, I would pay no mind, but this time I feel is serious"

"Well, he's what? Forty and something? Maybe he's afraid of being too old to take a lady down to…" proposed Hugo and two pairs of hands covered his mouth.

"You know, Quasi. When man meets a woman, they fall in love, get a bed and, well, that" smiled Victor.

"Guys, really. I'm twenty five; you don't need to do that. I know what he means but it's not that" the hunchback smiled.

"You sure?" the pig smiled.

"He began to act like that when I spoke about a wolf called Courtaud and how it was killed in this very square" explained Quasimodo. The trio of gargoyles went thoughtful.

"That name does ring a few bells" admitted Laverne. "And don't even think about it" she frowned at Hugo who was planning to use the pun to play the glockenspiel. "We know this story. It was a loud night, really loud. There was a real hullabaloo at the square. Those wolves killed many guards and neighbors. Only two men were able to take them down. We didn't stay long, because it was as cold as hell, but you get the picture"

"Do you know who those two were?"

"Can't say, Quasi. It was too dark to see anything" Laverne shook her head.

"I understand. I just wanted to help Clopin" the hunchback sighed.

"We know, but I'm sure it's nothing serious" Victor gave the boy a friendly slap. The bell ringer got ready to go his afternoon bell session, when something caught his eye. There was a strange figure moving through the rooftops of Paris. Quasi took good notice of the direction it was heading… Esmeralda's home! Who or what was that thing? What if it was dangerous? The hunchback ran to do his chore as fast as he could, and as soon as he began to run downstairs. "Quasi, wait!"

"Where is he going?" the three gargoyles watched as the boy left the cathedral in a rush.

"Maybe he left something at Esme's house. I know he hadn't quit!" smiled Hugo.

"SHUT UP!" the other two shouted.

The hunchback ran through the streets and stopped right in front of Phoebus 'house. He had lost the stranger, so maybe it had been left behind. Well, best to be sure. Quasi began to knock when a deep growl captured his attention. There was a large figure in the alley before him and as it carefully walked towards the torches, the hunchback noticed it was a wolf! A very large one! Once the animal was set at a certain distance from the young man, it stopped and stared at the human. It kept on growling but more like a dog that wants you to stay away from him. In the light, Quasi noticed a scar running from the left cheek to his neck. It seemed as if the beast was going to jump, when the door opened revealing the captain himself. When Phoebus saw the wolf, he quickly put a hand on his sword. The beast growled deeply and began to walk back, before disappearing into the shadows. Quasi noticed then that for a few seconds he had stopped breathing. The hunchback took a deep breath and looked up along with Phoebus as a flute was played. Sitting on the eaves was a strange figure wearing a wooden mask with a wolf face painted on it and several white-furred parts covering its body. Before any of the two men could say anything, the stranger jumped across the roofs and disappeared.

"Ok, this is beyond weird! What the hell is going here?" Phoebus put his sword back.

"I dunno, but we must speak with Clopin right now. He'll know"

"Wow, wow, wow! I'm not moving from here until I get a clear explanation" the blonde grumbled.

"Clopin was upset this afternoon because of the wolf skull. He didn't say why but I saw he was bothered by something" explained the hunchback. Seeing that didn't work, he went for a more direct approach. "And don't you think it's a bit too odd that that wolf and that whatever appear on the same day someone puts that bone head?"

"Ok, I'll buy that" they went inside and Phoebus got a bit more dressed. Esmeralda came downstairs with Pierre. "Go back to bed. I handle this. We are going to see Clopin and be back in a flash"

"If you think I'm going to sit here and wait like a right nana, you got one coming, mister. Pierre, go to bed, sweetie. Maman has to talk with Oncle and give your Papa an earful" Esmeralda turned to her son.

"Esme dear, don't make this more difficult than it is"

"I'm not. In case you have forgotten, I used to live in the Court and we don't want to repeat the hanging party with Oncle Clopin, do we?" she went to pick up her coat.

"What hanging party?" Pierre looked at Quasi.

"I'll tell you tomorrow!" the hunchback winked. The poor kid knew how his parents met, or at least a sugar-coated version of it. Phoebus and Esmeralda had made it clear; they didn't want their son to know that his dear Oncle loved to hang intruders from the noose like dirty clothes. Once they were all ready, they headed for the graveyard and headed into the depths of the catacombs. After many considerations, the gypsies returned to their old hideout three years ago after noticing that nobody was going to look for them there. And just like the last time, they did ran into the guards but seeing Esmeralda was with them, the sentinels skipped the tied-up part and led them straight to the Gypsy King, who was seeing the children to bed. "Clopin!"

"Ah, _mes amis_! Now this is a surprise! But shouldn't be you all be in bed by now?" asked the man.

"That we wish, Clo" Esme said hello to her dear foster-father/brother.

"We were on our merry way there, until Quasi sounded the alarm" said Phoebus. "I wouldn't have believed it myself, but truth I saw it so… Trust me. I like being down here at this hour as much as I like going into Jehan's office"

" _Comment?_ " Clopin lifted an eyebrow in confusion. Had the Captain just insulted him?

"Nothing!" quickly replied Phoebus and Esme gave him a smack.

"Am I missing something, _mes amis_?" the Gypsy King chuckled.

"There was a wolf in front of their house and a figure with a wolf mask running through the roofs" said Quasi as fast as he could. The hunchback wasn't sure if he had said it right, but judging by the puppeteer's face, Clopin had understood and didn't seem happy.

"Follow me. _Tout suit_!" the dark expression Clopin had when he surprised both men in the catacombs for the first time was back on his face. They ran to the surface, torches in hand, and stopped all of a sudden. Thousands of glowing eyes surrounded the entrance to the catacombs. Phoebus tried to get hold of his sword but the King stopped him. He knew better. " _Morir habemus_ "

" _Ya lo sabemus_ " the masked figure, who was sitting on a tombstone, answered.

"To what do I own the pleasure of your visit?" Clopin kept a nonchalant tone.

"We just came to see what we are promised, brother. We like watching our food sprint before taking away its life" they heard a soft chuckle in the stranger's voice. "But fear not, we will spare you. You owe us nothing. They do"

"We already settled this matter, _chér_. Leave now"

"Paris destroys our lands, so it's fair we come here for our share" replied the figure.

"Who promised your part?" Clopin's voice grew colder.

"Someone with a grudge, this much we can say" the masked stranger walked to the growling shadows. "Bring us back the head and we might reconsider"

"Get out now and I might be merciful. _Votre choix_ " the King frowned. A chorus of snarls followed but was stopped by a powerful howl. The men looked in confusion how all the dark figures sat down and disappeared into the night carrying the masked-figure, leaving only a one-eyed wolf standing in the middle which began to walk away in a peaceful manner.

" _Une vie pour une rose. Le vent s'est transformé en chair._ _L'amour s'est transformé en brise_ " said the lupine before disappearing without a trace. All the men blinked, the beasts were gone but the scene that had taken place before them was too strange to ignore. Quasi noticed then that the wolf's voice was the same as the man in the square as Clopin moved forward a few steps and picked up a rose. The time for a new skin had come back.

* * *

Little to say, except thank Teophany for her covers of Majora's Mask and Pierre Adenot for his soundtrack for the Beauty and the Beast (2014).

Moving on!


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Some things are worth revealing, others are better kept in the dark.

* * *

 **4\. White King, Black King**

Jehan had heard many strange stories in Paris, some worth listening and others not. The death of Frollo was in the first category, but he had restrained himself from asking. Paris had no sweet memories of his predecessor so there was no point in stretching the matter. The other one was the Gypsy King. Some claimed to know who he was; others spoke of him like a mythical figure. Pretty much like the Fisher King of the Northern Islands. The minister paid little attention. What really caught his attention was how this so-called king came to be. According to his sources, he just rounded up the gypsies one day and told them how to avoid the guards, how to capture the attention of the public and be undetected. Someone like that doesn't appear out of nowhere. That man had to have a past, an origin, a name… Sigh.

"Sir" one of the guards walked in. "Citizens are speaking of a large group of wolves prowling around the streets"

"Have you checked for paw prints or any proof?" asked Jehan sitting before his chess game and set the pieces. (Yes, this game existed back then! I checked!)

"Yes, sir. Nothing so far"

"Keep your eyes peeled, man. I don't want surprises"

"Aye, sir" the soldier left the room. The minister glanced at the elaborated carvings that now occupied the set (Lewis Chess). How was he going to unlock the mysteries of such brilliant mind? A sound of barks answered his question. Jehan looked through his window and saw a large dog dropping something at the door before leaving. The minister opened the gates and saw a beautiful rose with a note tied to it. The man looked around; Jehan saw no one so he went back to his studio and opened the small scroll where it was written something in Hebrew: אריאל. Why would someone leave something that he can't read? Strange. Well, at least the rose smelled like Heaven. It was at that instant that the paper slightly caught fire and began to burn. Jehan was fast to pull it out and discover some message appearing on the scroll.

" _The air got tired of whispering. His eyes were too slim. A rose befall in its lap and he followed her into the city. Too late did he realize that the stone walls were nothing against the flesh…"_ ¡darn! The rest was gone. What kind of a strange riddle was that? Hmm. There was something nostalgic and yet foreboding of this message. Had the author left him a clue? Jehan was not sure but as he stared into the sleeping city, he knew certain things had to be done. The minister grabbed his hat and after getting his horse, he headed into the streets and into the left bank of the Seine. Not far from the walls of Paris, surrounded by a meadow stood the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The monks were asleep but Jehan knew a way around into a small cell where Sister Gudule lived. Unlike the other religious men, her ideas had always been stretched a little further and some believed her a witch. Frollo ignored her existence and Jehan kept her alive for his own purposes. The minister walked into the room but the woman did not look up. She had her cards on the table and was staring at them. A prediction?

"I told you to not disturb me" she whispered. The first card to appear was 'The Fool'.

"I need your advice" the man stood still and the nun turned. "I need you to tell me what this is" Jehan gave her the scroll and Gudule took a good look. Her face went from surprised to pleased.

"I knew this would happen. It was about time. I'm just surprised that the husk is still standing"

"Elaborate that" grumbled Jehan.

"Men of these parts only see their god, their virgins and saints. They are afraid. I'm not. Where I come from, there are more terrifying and powerful beings, which hate and envy humans" Gudule went on with her card reading. The second card was 'The Devil'. The minister had always wondered about her strange accent and that night was especially thick. "You're looking for the Gypsy King… again. Many have tried, all failed"

"I heard he just popped one day in town, coming out of nowhere. He quickly became the leader of the Roma, thanks to his cunning and deceives" the minister went silent for a few seconds. "My brother wanted him on a pike"

"(Snort) Yer brother was a fool" Gudule shook her head. Jehan growled but kept calm. "He searched for a man and that was his biggest mistake"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't say no more. I see nothing else"

"Tell me, woman. Or you'll…" Jehan hit the table hard.

"Burn me in the pyre? Good luck with that. At least, I will stop leaving in this stupid stone coffin. And that is if you're successful"

"Very well, have it your way, then" the judge gave up and walked towards the door. "You mentioned a husk"

"Find Sycorax and you'll find it" Gudule turned the last card: The Magician.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

After taking Quasimodo back to the cathedral, Esmeralda had been adamant about Clopin's possible shock and decided to bring him to their house, despite Phoebus constant arguments and her friend's excuses. When they arrived, Pierre was asleep, watched by the always loyal Djali who had curled on one side of the bed. Relieved that her son was resting, Esmeralda went to Clopin's side and prepared a bed for him.

"I don't want to impose, _chérie_ " the King watched as she worked. He didn't want to admit it but he was awfully tired. Normally, gypsies avoided closed environments but if Esmeralda had got used to it, then it was all right (at least for one night).

"I just want to make sure that you don't get killed over night. Besides, I asked around and they all had told me, Clo" she motioned him to sit with her. "If you spend days without sleeping, how are you going to lead?"

"I'm getting older, sleeps get lighter. _Évidemment!"_

"Clo, look at me" Esmeralda requested and after a few seconds, their eyes met. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong"

"Don't lie to me" the woman insisted. Clopin softly bit his lip and rubbed his ribs.

" _Je suis vieux. Trop vieux._ _Voilà la vérité, Essie_ " whispered the puppeteer. "I'm getting too old for you, _mon ange_ " Clopin felt a small shatter in his abdomen. "Soon, I won't fit as king or as your guardian"

"Don't say that" their foreheads touched. "I could never survive without you"

"You got your Captain, Quasi and Pierre. I had my fun and I got you and that's all I need"

"Clo, please"

"…" he gently held close her against his chest. "I promise I won't leave until I'm sure you are ready to fly, Essie" Clopin smiled. The woman felt his heartbeat and gentle breathing, she had always loved listening to them when she needed comfort, but something seemed missing. As if a part of his friend was no longer there. The Roma produced then a painful hiss and doubled over Esmeralda. He had just remembered why his sleeping wasn't good.

"Clo, are you all right?" the woman looked up. Her friend was shaking like mad and his forehead was covered with fever. "Hush now" she helped him into the bed and put a wet cloth on his head. "We'll talk in the morning"

"Just make sure that that _ce mari stupide de la vôtre_ does not come in by dawn, Essie. I had enough _gadjos_ for one night"

"Deal" she kissed his forehead and tucked him in. "Good night"

"Good night" whispered Clopin closing his eyes. Once at the corridor, Esmeralda glanced at her husband.

"How is he?" asked Phoebus.

"Exhausted. A little under the weather, but I hope it's nothing" they went to their bedroom. She sat on the bed and sighed sadly.

"Esme, what's wrong? Is it more than just a cold?" he walked slowly towards her. "You can tell me. I won't go mad, I promise"

"He says he can't go on. Marie has told me that he hasn't sleep in days and now this. Clopin, my wonderful big brother, might not…" she was at the end of her rope.

"Hey! Hey, look at me" Phoebus sat next to her and they shared a glance. "Whatever it is, we will face it together. I'm sure that he only needs a bit of time. When the king has visited and things are back to normal, we can all go have some fun. We can go on a trip, whatever you want" he held her gently.

"You promise?"

"I give you my word. He's my, well, brother-in law, dash, father-in-law, so yeah. We're family" Phoebus put a hand under his wife's chin.

"Thanks" they stood together for a while before going to bed.

* * *

Small threats make the tapestry.

See you soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Author's note: As Prospero states in the Tempest…

" _Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling_

 _Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,_

 _One of their kind, that relish all as sharply_

 _Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?_ "

* * *

 **5\. Child in his Eyes**

Morning had yet not broken on Paris when Clopin woke up. All his family was still asleep as he wandered through the house, feeling like a ghost around the living. As he stood by the door of the main bedroom, he couldn't avoid a pang of sadness when his eyes noticed his dear Esmeralda in the arms of her husband. She had grew so much since he first saw her as a little girl, those years they spent together and how did they come together again when she returned to Paris after a long absence. It was strange to see her lying in the side of someone that wasn't him. Clopin felt cold, as if a magic charm had been broken. Poor Essie! How would she move on when he was gone? Phoebus let out a soft snore. The gypsy frowned. That blondie would be better worth it or he was in for a world of pain.

With a long sigh, Clopin walked to Pierre's room and after some considering, he gently moved a chair beside the boy and sat down. He was so much like his parents and yet he had some of Quasi's good heart. The boy would eventually grow up into a fine gentleman, someone that perhaps will find himself in a world where peace and reason would triumph over fear and tyranny, a world where he sadly didn't fit in. Clopin's universe was made of mysteries, magic and shadows, something bound to expire. Poor Pierre! He loved his Oncle so much. And his dear companion and brother-figure, Quasimodo, was going to find his place in the world at last, no longer hidden in the darkness of fear and ignorance.

" _A dangerous thing is_

 _hope when you have nothing else_

 _a simple laugh that was the past_

 _Growing up too fast_

 _I wanted freedom for the rest_

 _I want to change "not" answers to_

 _questions like "Why can't they get what they need?""_

"Baa" Djali opened an eye and rubbed against the man's arm.

"I know, I know. I shouldn't be this gloomy but things are getting out of my reach this time, _mon ami_ " Clopin leaned on a fist and playfully moved his fingers.

"Ba? Baaaa!" the goat tilted his head.

"Hush, I heard you. Yes, last time I didn't exactly set EVERYTHING in motion. Just the essential parts" the gypsy gently rubbed the gray fur with his other hand. "I didn't want Esmeralda _sur la braise_ , I swear. But I needed Quasi out of that tower and all went well in the end, _non_?"

"Be" Djali's face said 'not really'.

"Tough crowd" Clopin sighed. "Ok, fine. It could have been better. There, I said it. _Satisfait_?" the goat's expression was still the same. "Yes, I could have tell Quasi that he was one of our people, but that would have done more harm than good"

"Baa?"

"If I had told him, I would have too much in my hands to explain. _Non, non, non! Pas du tout_! Quasi will hear my piece when he's ready" Clopin shook his head in time to hear Pierre whimpering. The poor child was having a nightmare. The gypsy king gently scooped the boy into his arms and spoke gently into his ears. After a few seconds, Pierre opened his eyes and hugged his Oncle, looking for protection. "T'is all right, _mon petit soldat_. The monsters are gone"

"It was horrible. There were lots of wolves and when I ran to Papa, he was gone. And Maman and Quasi" the poor boy was shaking like a leaf.

"Fear not, _mon chér prince_. Oncle is still here" Clopin held him tight. "Dreams can't hurt you when you're with me"

"You'll always be here, right?"

"As long as there's a moon, Oncle will always shine by you. Even if you can't see me, I will be always keeping eyes on you, _mon enfant_ " he held him a little tighter.

" _Please let them live_

 _Let them be_

 _Let them take what they must need_

 _Give them love_

 _Give romance_

 _Give the child its fair chance_

 _Let love live_

 _Let love be_

 _Let a human heart go free_

 _Give courage_

 _Give romance_

 _Teach them all how they can dance"_

"I'm scared" whispered Pierre. "I want the wolves out, Oncle"

"Me too, _mon fils_ " Clopin breathed deep. His mind snickered remembering how weird was still to him the act of getting air to survive. "But right now, you need to sleep"

"But I can't. I want a story. Please, Oncle" who could resist those puppy eyes?

"Oh, all right. But just one" the jester smiled and out of nowhere, popped Puppet in his usual attire making Pierre laughed. Clopin had been terribly relieved to find him after the battle in Notre Dame, resting among the debris but in one piece. (I really missed the little guy in the sequel and I'm not the only one).

"YAY! A story!" the puppet giggled.

"Hush, now! We don't want to wake Essie, do we, _mon_ _vieux_?" warned Clopin and his little me nodded. "That's better. Now, let's see. We need something special for one special _enfant_ "

"I don't want cheesy, Oncle. Maman tells cheesy" begged Pierre.

"Ok, then. We will break our bow and go dangerous tonight, how does that sound, _mon fantassin_?" Clopin widely seeing the child bob with such enthusiasm. "Hmm" the puppeteer considered for a few minutes until the sight of his own toy helped him made up his mind. "You might recall this one, _mon ami_. Yes, you do"

"If you don't tell me, I won't" chimed the puppet.

"Yes you do. Remember now. There was a time, a happy time, when the world was filled by life. Everything had light and moved around the world in its own accord. People could speak with the rivers and the winds. Magic was all around us, it was _le sang dans nos veines_ " smiled Clopin fondly and the puppet rested on his lap, as he was another listener. "The world was open for all those who wanted to explore. Things like tyranny and war only lasted a few years and were forgotten" a melancholic expression appeared on Clopin's face. "Back in those days, a very powerful lord had many servants. They were created by magic, their hairs as red as fire and as small as a mouse" this comment made Pierre smiled. "Their master was quite harsh, so many of them escaped into the night and transformed into other things in order to be free. One of those servants became the wind itself and flew far and wide. _Oui_ , that was _la vie_!" the man's voice was so filled with pride and happiness that the child opened his eyes wide. "His skin became pale and his hair black, but he was free. Or at least so it was for some time" Clopin reached into his tunic and made a strange puppet appear. It was a woman, but it was crooked and it had spider fingers. "Her name was Sycorax and she was a witch on a beautiful island. She had heard about the servants and how magical they were. She found our windy hero and using her dark magic, Sycorax trapped him and made him do her bidding until she got tired of him. The witch decided then a terrible destiny: 'Into a cloven pine, within which rift. Imprisoned thou didst painfully remain' said the witch. A dozen years it was; within which space she died" Pierre leaned on his uncle's chest. "For many years, our hero cried in desperation, looking for a way out until he was able to put a part of himself into the wind that once helped him escaped. He was carried away for a long while, like in a dream, until he reached Paris. _Oui, Paris_! And what did he saw? An angel"

"Like in the cathedral?"

" _Oui_ , something like that. He woke up and went to her. Our hero thought he was finally free and in love, but alas! This angel was no light. She was Sycorax's sister, friendlier yes, but a powerful witch too. She had heard of her sister's fate and didn't want the air servant to just fly away so the woman captured our friend and poof! He suddenly couldn't fly, he couldn't become other things nor disappear. He was a man, a human, in tanned flesh trapped like inside the tree. His memories lost forever and his other half trapped in that pine for the rest of eternity. Time went by and our hero became just like the other men and the witch let him be" Clopin swallowed hard. It was the end of the tale. Pierre went quiet. "I'm sorry it doesn't have a true happy ending, _mon enfant_. But some stories are not meant to be happy" the Gypsy King held the child tight.

"But he will have it one day. He was very brave all those times. I'm sure one day he'll be free again and go back to find that pine" said Pierre and something inside Clopin warmed up. "I'm sure he will" they exchanged a glance. "I'm sure you will one day, Oncle. You are a king, right?" Pierre had somehow understood what he was talking about.

"There's more to this story, _mon enfant_ , much, much more but now I'm the proudest uncle on earth, because I have the smartest nephew anyone could want" Clopin smiled.

"That is why you love Maman so much, right? Because she was lonely too"

"I couldn't stand seeing her with no parents. I'm a hero, _non_?" the both giggled.

"You're a big _sacripant_!" Said puppet.

"Am not!"

"Yes, you are!" a small quarrel between the toy and his master ensued, making Pierre laugh softly. The child knew that the story he had just heard was about his uncle and that solved several question and made up others. Pierre had always had the feeling that when Clopin bickered with his puppet, he was in fact REALLY quarreling with himself, like a man torn into two. If that was true, then there was more to tell about the windy creature and his transformation into the famous Clopin Trouillefou, the Gypsy King, but it would have to wait for later on. Minutes later, the child was asleep and the jester was back in his own bed, remembering the good times.

" _There's so much love, courage, knowledge, and hope_

 _We still live, love, and do it in vain_

 _And our fight for freedom is still the same, the same…_

 _If you look at a man with a child in his eyes_

 _The boy cries when the man wants to die_

 _He gives up in the future, next thing, he falls in love with a smile_

 _If you look at a man with a life in his eyes_

 _The boy laughs while the man wants to die_

 _He's refined, he's alive, he loves one with no name who still smiles_ "

* * *

" _Which was to please. Now I want_

 _Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,_

 _And my ending is despair,_

 _Unless I be relieved by prayer,_

 _Which pierces so that it assaults_

 _Mercy itself and frees all faults._

 _As you from crimes would pardoned be,_

 _Let your indulgence set me free_ "


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: So good to hear from you! Thank u so much, Cryosat, and all of those who walk with me! We move on.

Oh, and before you ask, France was with a bit of a crazy civil war back in 1487 along with several crashes with England for the Breton country. We won't hear much from it but that was the background back then.

* * *

 **6\. Telling Stories**

The royal horn called all the citizens as the midday sun sat on the sky. Two days had passed since the attack and things seemed to have calmed down. Nevertheless, Clopin was still uneasy and thus he had ordered all the gypsies to stay away from the royal ball. The music, color and dancing were all around Paris as the bright king entered the capital of his kingdom.

Quasimodo had ringed his bells for around forty minutes to announce the happy news and now had a few minutes to peer down into the streets. The atmosphere was similar to the Feast of Fools but there was a certain feeling of order. Jehan had made sure of it. The new minister had spent the two last days getting to know the cathedral and its inhabitants and Quasi had to admit that the man was very different from his master, but not as much as he wanted. There was a certain something around Jehan that screamed Frollo all over. The very thought gave him the shivers but the great day was no place for those thoughts.

The young man wanted to be happy so he breathed deep as the happy tune of Clopin climbed up the stone walls.

" _It's there in the eyes of the children_

 _In the faces smiling in the windows_

 _You can come on out, come on open the doors_

 _Brush away the tears of freedom_

 _Now we're here, there's no turning back_

 _We have each other_

 _We have one voice_ "

Quasimodo moved around the tower and smiled wide, followed by his friends, as the music played on through the building like a song that had been waiting to appear for a really long time.

" _Come dance with me_

 _Come on and dance into the light_

 _Everybody dance into the light_

 _There'll be no more hiding in shadows of fear_

 _There'll be no more chains to hold you_

 _The future is yours - you hold the key_

 _And there are no walls with freedom_

 _Now we're here, we won't go back_

 _We are one world_

 _We have one voice_ "

Little by little, Quasi climbed down the stone figures towards the streets were the large crowd was receiving the King, but the hunchback had other things in mind. He wanted to see his best friend, Pierre, and join Clopin in his song.

" _Do you see the sun - it's a brand new day_

 _Oh, the world's in your hands, now use it_

 _What's past is past, don't turn around_

 _Brush away the cobwebs of freedom_

 _Now we're here, there's no turning back_

 _You have each other_

 _You have one voice_

 _Hand in hand you can lay the tracks_

 _Because the train is coming to carry you home_

 _Come dance with me_

 _Come on and dance into the light_

 _Everybody dance into the light_ "

Pierre ran to join his friend surrounded by a large group of children. It was a sunny day, a beautiful one and they could finally lay eyes into the young monarch and his older sister, who were trying to settle the political web in France. Little news about the Mad War and the conflicts with England had reached Paris. Apparently, the crown was aware of Phoebus's role and hence kept him in the capital to avoid any further disturbances. The hunchback looked around, looking for the Gypsy King but he saw nothing. King Charles VIII stood on a horse and looked around like a man taking in a very difficult formula. The young man loved the capital, but Paris was still just a strategic fort and thus his visit was a mere way to keep it controlled. Still, good news were not scarce. His loyal Jehan had reports regarding the Gypsy King and that could mean taking over the rebel portion. The Roma people were a sharp thorn in the king's side.

Quasi looked around until he noticed a man covered with a heavy cloak walking around the guards. It was clearly a beggar and he limped badly as he leaned on a long stick, but when the man sat down and looked at the hunchback, the masked face under the cloth could only belong to one man.

"Clopin!" the hunchback smiled.

"Hush. I like having you around, _mon ami_ , but don't spoilt it" whispered the gypsy.

"Ouh, sorry" Quasi and Pierre welcome the man and sat with him. "I thought you said you were not interested"

"And I'm not, but I like knowing who's after my hide. I'm a hors-la-loi, this I must not forget"

"Do you think they're happy to be here?" they all sat down. "The King and his sister"

"Can't say for certain, _chèr_. They do seem please but perhaps not as we think" Clopin lifted his head. "Where's our dear captain?"

"Right there" Quasi pointed at the blonde man standing tall beside the king.

"Ah, yes! Luckily for Dweebus, he's a competent man and he was able to keep his job. Otherwise, I would have to make more space in the tent for him" the gypsy sniggered.

"Why, Oncle?"Asked Pierre.

"Because marrying a Roma is never easy, _mon enfant_. It's bad for business"

"Hu?" the child was clueless.

"It means that 'normal' people don't like it when someone marries a gypsy. It's quite stupid, really" explained Quasi. "It's all about being different, another color and things like that. Again, stupid"

"Oh, right…" Pierre admitted. "But, uh, Maman married Dad" that comment made Clopin smiled.

"Let's just say that your Father was crazy enough to do so and your mother was sensible enough to hold him before he jumped off a bridge. _Très simple_ " sniggered the Gypsy King.

"Did he really jump off a bridge?" the child whispered in Quasi's ear.

"Technically he was hit and he felt off a bridge, leaving Esmeralda no choice but to save him" answered the hunchback. "And later she saved us from the Hanging Party so yes. Your parents were meant to be together"

"What is that hanging party?" Pierre hadn't been able to get a straight answer about that.

"Uh, a party" the young man rubbed his nape. The child lifted an eyebrow.

"One that starts with good noose and ends with the fall of the curtain" Clopin said with a wide smile making Quasi go pale.

"Hahahahahaha… I don't get it" Pierre was clueless.

"Later, perhaps" they got up. The King was about to make a speech.

"Good citizens of Paris, as your Monarch and Leader, I'm happy to be here. Your town is still the jewel of this country and it will soon shine brighter once our enemies have been vanquished" the people applauded.

"A king that can't keep his house clean is never good policy" Clopin whispered.

"What do you mean?" Quasi asked.

"All these wars are because he's in bad terms with his own family and crew, not to mention his neighbors. Anyone like that is best three miles away from you"

"We are happy to see that our people have flourished since the battle of Notre Dame" continued the king.

"Un-creative name" Clopin mocked.

"And that the Roma live now in peace with us, but we must not forget that we need to be one against those who speak with the Devil and the enemies of France"

"Double puns are just not your thing, right, Charlie?"

"For all these reasons, my stay in Paris will be to ensure that your future is safe and that we will soon enter a new era" the king received a new wave of applauses.

"Maybe when you stop fighting over who has the bigger spot in the playground, dear boy. Oh, well. Go figure!" Clopin groaned.

"My brother and I wished the best for Paris and so, we shall stay until the problems of the wolves have been solved. Our presence and strong men will surely drive them away so fear not, my people. We will stand strong together" spoke the regent. Anne of France was surely a more interesting presence than her brother and brighter in ideas. Her husband, Peter, stood beside her. Their presence was more interesting to Clopin than the so-called monarch. The party moved on.

"I best go check on the others. You boys can hold the fort for me?" asked Clopin.

"Sure" nodded Quasi. They watched the Gypsy King walk away again in his limping beggar role. "I sure hope he's feeling ok. Clopin has hardly left the court these days"

"Quasi? You don't think he's…" whispered Pierre.

"I really hope not. Clopin is really important for Esmeralda and everyone. He's weird but funny. I can't think of a better person to lead the gypsies. If he's really sick and feeling bad, he wouldn't be here or at least I don't think so"

"Oncle's the best" smiled the child and his friend nodded. Clopin, who had heard everything from behind a corner, wanted to feel happy too but he couldn't. His condition was still bad and he hadn't any clues about why. Claire, the wise woman of the Court and only person who knew the truth, was at the end of her rope and they didn't know if it was related to the wolves or not. Pierre, Quasi… So young, too young to be aware of the big universe outside. Giggle. For several reasons, the young hunchback reminded him of Scycorax's son, Caliban, but in a good sense. Clopin couldn't help but feeling pity about the witch's child, all alone in that island in the Mediterranean. If he made it back, he was going to give that _calvaluna_ a piece of his mind but first, he had to make sure of a long list of things. He had seen into Quasi's story and now, it was time to see what cards Jehan had. The judge was now whispering into the king's ear. Let's see.

"Are there any news?" whispered the monarch.

"A few. Apparently, this Gypsy King just appeared out of the blue and taught the others all they know. I wouldn't have believed it at first but I have leads that point to a magic source" Jehan's words caught Clopin's attention.

"Do explain"

"My brother raided a gypsy camp about twenty years ago. The only survivors were a young boy and a little girl. The boy was badly injured, barely alive. Those who found him thought he was going to die and so they called upon a nun" Jehan had spent days looking for clues. "The nun was able to save the boy, when he was almost dead. Not many details are told, but apparently she summoned an air spirit to do it. The woman trapped the spirit inside the lad and thus saved him, but now they both lived inside the same body. According to my research, this is not possible unless the soul of the host is kept somewhere safe, near its container. If this air spirit is still alive and is the Gypsy King, then he must be this man I'm telling you and he might be able to cure you" those words made Clopin's skin crawl. That judge knew too much.

"Then, find him. It's not like I want an air spirit ruling my country but perhaps we can use him to our advantage. Use any necessary means" ordered the king. Clopin swallowed hard. That couldn't be good. The puppeteer started to head back towards Pierre and Quasimodo, when his vision began to tunnel and his chest felt on fire, and never so sudden. He had felt bad in the past days but never like this. He didn't have strength to think straight. His legs give away and he knew no more.

* * *

Little to say, things will go clear little by little.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note: Don't think you have the story all figured out, my friends. That is all I can say.

* * *

 **7\. Anarkia**

"Esme, I don't want to sound pushy, I really don't, but don't you think it's a good time to have a heart to heart with your, ehem, your brother? Clopin is a wonderful man, he really is. I wish him the best and so on, but he's really pushing his luck this time and Jehan isn't exactly oblivious about his antics" Phoebus and his wife stood beside the king, watching the whole procedure.

"Does your boss have a problem with him, because if he does…"

"He has a problem with you, yes. I know. Point taken, dear. We don't want a Frollo-wannabe. But, Essie, this is serious"

"What does that man have that Frollo didn't?"

"Well, for starters, influence. He has been in the king's side for years and is well known in the hunting parties. Second, his reputation is as clean as a whistle. And third, there are rumors that he's fascinated by alchemy" stated the captain. (Alchemy was viewed at something positive, back then).

"Nothing impressive, save for the first part"

"And last, but not least - in fact, this is most important one—he's Frollo's little brother"

"WHAT?" Esmeralda was beyond herself.

"I heard it from my men and then from the Archdeacon himself. Apparently, they didn't get along due to Jehan's fascination for alchemy. Also, our judge had a reputation among women. But Esme, the fact is he knows what happened that day and, although lenient with gypsies, he hates you and every person related to what happened"

"Did you ask him?"

"Aye. He told me you and I were out of his rage due to our work to restore Paris. But Jehan said nothing about Quasi or Clopin"

"You don't think…"

"Can't say for sure, Essie. We should be careful and really talk to our friends, that is all I'm saying" the captain leaned to her wife's head level. She nodded and they walked on with the rest of the delegation, noticing then an old man sitting on a corner along two large hunting hounds. Esmeralda found him more interesting and so walked towards the man. The old man smiled and caressed his dogs. They were similar to the ones found in castle, alongside tall soldiers (wolfhounds or alike).

"Can I help you, _mademoiselle_?" he didn't look like a farmer or an artisan.

"Are you from around here, _monsieur_? I don't remember having such large pets in town. Especially not among us gypsies"

"Hehehehehehe. Ye must be Esmeralda, Clopin's baby girl. Boy, have you grown! You might not remember me, but I'm a good friend of your kin. My name's Gregoire du Fronsac and I am the king's gamekeeper, sort of speaking. I am what the peasants call wolf-shepherd"

"Wait, I do remember you! You always help the Romas that come from the Forest of Rambouillet. Clopin always speaks wonders about you" Esme remembered then.

"I have known many Gypsy Kings and French ones. His family was always a good visit so I taught him a thing or two. I heard about the wolves in town and came as quickly as I could"

"Clo told me that you helped him during that winter, maybe you can help us again"

"I wish I could but these wolves ain't the ones I know. Before coming to Paris, I checked and my pack is hidden deep in Rambouillet. No, these beasts are something else"

"…" Esme looked away in distress.

"But that doesn't mean I won't give you a hand" Gregoire said and the woman smiled. "I spoke to the king this morning to see what I could do. He told me that since they weren't mine, I wasn't fired, but he said something I didn't like"

"What?"

"That those wolves don't stand a chance against him, that France is a tall country and will not fear such mutts. I would have agreed with him if I didn't knew better"

"What do you mean?"

"Thirty years I go, I saw a peculiar scene. It all took place a year before that horrible killing. I was walking through the forest, looking for some rabbits, when I saw Courtaud for the first time. He and his pack were chasing a beautiful stag, un _cerf_. Twelve tines in his antlers, a golden prize for any hunter and a heavenly beast that was. I knew that if he survived that hunt, it would become a king's trophy. The wolves chased him and bite the deer for almost four hours, until the stag jumped into a frozen river to save himself from Courtaud. The trick worked and the pack ran to shore, but instead of swimming to the other side, the dim-witted animal stood where he was. Thinking he was safe, he waited for the wolves to leave. His pride blinded him. Blood loss and ice made the stag weak. In the end, he stood between the wolves or dying in the frozen waters. Courtaud noticed that and waited for the stag's decision. The stupid beast chose the wolves and the pack killed him in seconds, after a weak attempt with its antlers. If the stag had ran when he had the chance, he would have lived. I learned that day that pride and comfort are dead warrants. One must never think he's saved just because he's standing a little bit further from his enemies than before. When Courtaud died that winter, he wasn't the last to fall but one of the bravest and smartest, because he knew that lesson from the stag just like me"

"Wait, wasn't the last? Then whose skull is that?" Esmeralda looked at the bone head.

"Someone else, this I know. The owner of that head was a bigger and more terrible beast than Courtaud, and his pack is in town to get his skull back. That's why I'm in Paris, to talk with Clopin"

"Well, he's…" one of the dogs began to whimper in one direction and the other followed.

"Something's off. _Qu'est past t il, Tonnerre_? _Foudre_ ? _Chercher_!" Gregoire got up and released the hounds. The dogs ran through the crowd until they reached a fallen figure in the ground, covered in a large tunic. Fronsac kneeled next to the man while Esmeralda held her breath. She knew that tunic too well. The gamekeeper took a good look, recognizing who it was and gently pulling him up in his arms. Fronsac almost smiled when he noticed how light the man in his arms was, he had almost forgotten about it.

"Is he…"

"He'll live. I need a safe place to recognize him" Gregoire looked around and made up his mind, they walked inside the cathedral and he laid the passed out Clopin on one of the pews. Before Fronsac could start his maneuvers, a loud howl was heard. The mysterious pack was back.

* * *

Several revelations and other mysteries arise.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's note: You guys might not believe this, but right now having your support means a lot to me! Thank u for the reviews!

* * *

 **8\. The Rising**

As all the people in the street looked up, dark figures rose on top of the buildings wearing white wolf masks along with dark, long furry coats. In the middle was the stranger of the graveyard and he stood proud over the tiles. Quasi and Pierre were speechless, how have those creatures cross over the guards? The Archdeacon looked through the doors and recognized the figures as the creatures he once saw, almost thirty years before.

"People of Paris, we salute you. You might not remember us, but we do know you. You let your nobles hunt in our lands, chase away our only supply and kill us for sport. Thirty years ago, you took something away from us and now we want it back. Give us back our treasure" the masked man pointed at something in the square, making people recoil in fear while Quasi tried to guess what he was talking about. "And we will leave in peace" the voice of the leader became dark. "Refuse and we will kill you all like sheep"

"You speak of crime and death, sir, but this good people have done you no harm. You're addressing the Regent of France and the future King, so state your conditions and we will not send the guards after you"

"We're not afraid of your weapons or your men. Give us our treasure now and we shall leave"

"You are not afraid, then?" Anne spoke up. "Your numbers aren't as big as ours"

"You might be more, but wits do better than figures. Your men are superstitious, easy to scare and will run when we come down. _Non, non,_ I think this game's ours, _Madame._ Pay our prize or suffer the loss of your people, starting with the little ones" the wolves opened the jaws of their mask and pointy fangs shone. The Parisians cowered back, trying to protect the children.

"Quasi…" Pierre grabbed the hunchback's arm and the young man turned to his friend before heading towards the cathedral along with the other kids. Esmeralda was relieved to see her son safe and sound, but Quasimodo didn't stay indoors. He had to know what was this all about. The masked man saw him and got up.

"What do you want? We have done you no wrong" shouted the bell-ringer.

"Oh, but YOU have, Pale Child. Your kin, your father slaughtered our brothers and that deserves making amends. Give us back our crown and we shall forgive"

"…" Quasi went quiet. The wolves knew his family, his origins.

"My people don't do deals with yours. Leave now and we won't have to kill you" spoke the Queen, interrupting the bell ringer's thoughts.

"Fine then, have it your way" the masked man took out his flute.

Fronsac had not left the side of Clopin during the whole scene. The poor gypsy was getting too pale for his liking and was not breathing, but this detail didn't scare the gamekeeper. He took out a small vial of water, pierced his middle finger with a pin and dropped a small blood drop into the flask. Fronsac shook the container and released a single teardrop into Clopin's mouth. The moment the scarlet droplet touched the gypsy's tongue, the Rom opened his eyes and started heaving like crazy. When Clopin recognized his friend's face, he clung to him like a frightened child.

The gamekeeper smiled.

"Don't scare me like that, Clo. I was already once near your grave and it wasn't pretty. It's good to see your still with us. Oh, and by the way, I must congratulate you about your kid. She has become a wonderful woman" Fronsac patted his friend's back. The gypsy nodded but when he tried to speak, he couldn't find a way for his voice. It was stuck in his throat like a caged bird. In frustration, he touched his neck, it felt warm. Too warm. In anger, Clopin tried to shout but his lungs felt like two burning coals. "All right, all right. I get it. You can't speak. It's all right, I'm sure it's just temporary" the howls went higher. "Ah, yes. I forgot about them"

" _What's going on?_ " Clopin said with his hands.

"Remember our old friend, Grand ML? His boys are in town and not alone. They brought some of my people along" whispered Fronsac. He hadn't told anyone, the possibilities of being misunderstood were too great.

" _QUOI_?" the gypsy went pale.

"Hush that gap! There's war in France, Clo. My neighbors starve and Grand ML gave them a solution. If they brought the skull, he would find them food and the culprits of their misery"

" _Mon Dieu_ " Clopin was beside himself. " _So, what do we do? What can we do?_ "

"Speak to that no-good king. The Queen was open to listen, but when I mentioned the hunts… It was the end of the world" Fronsac grumbled. "They don't understand that those stupid chases are driving the wolves to the brink of destruction. They kill too many animals and the people end up with nothing save stealing the sport from the wolves. The farmers are revolting. My people are tired of waiting for these wars to end. I know you don't want to put your kin in danger, but we can't just sit here"

"…" they gypsy sighed. One of the deerhounds gently touched Clopin's arm and put a puppet on his lap. It was the tiny version of him. The Rom smiled and gave the dogs a loving scratching. The marionette was his way to address the wolves." _I need your help, Gregoire. Again_ "

"You always have it and you know it. Name it"

" _I need a tall place to speak and your dogs. I must have a word with our friends_ "

"I hope you know what you're doing, Clo" he helped the Rom up and they headed to the stairs. They reached one of the windows and gazed outside. The masked man was about to send his wolves in. Fronsac turned to his friend and he smiled. Clopin put his puppet inside his shirt, covering his heart and breathed deep. The Rom nodded to the gamekeeper and Gregoire made his hounds start barking like mad. The wolves cowered a little. Clopin stepped out of the window and stood on one of the gargoyles like a real king, still covered with his purple tunic and wearing his jester clothes of yellow and lilac. Quasi glanced at the man; he looked like one of the kings painted inside the cathedral of the biblical scenes or an angel.

" _Morir habemus_ " the Rom's voice sounded like thunder against the walls.

" _Ya lo sabemus_. What brings you here, brother? We already told you, we want nothing more from you" the wolves answered.

"This is my people, my city. I know what you want and I understand your request, but spare the little ones, brothers. They have done no harm. _Épargnez-les_. Show mercy and Paris will show hers. This country is stealing your food and your homeland, but that can be solved"

"Give us our treasure and we will leave" repeated the masked man. "The Pale Child or you must be the ones to bring it"

"Very well, but stay where you are. I will bring it down and put it at your feet. We don't want any blood sheds today" nodded Clopin. The puppet trick was working but he could feel his lungs about to burst and his body getting weaker. "I'll give you your crown back"

" _Can't see nothin' in front of me_

 _Can't see nothin' coming up behind_

 _I make my way through this darkness_

 _I can't feel nothing but this chain that binds me_

 _Lost track of how far I've gone_

 _How far I've gone, how high I've climbed_

 _On my back's a sixty pound stone_

 _On my shoulder a half mile line_

 _Come on up for the rising_

 _Com on up, lay your hands in mine_

 _Come on up for the rising_

 _Come on up for the rising tonight"_

"Stay where you are, monsieur!" the king roared. "This is my kingdom and I won't have a gypsy giving it away"

"It's not what you think, your Highness" replied the Rom.

"You said crown, MY crown" Charles looked at his guards. "And they called you brother. You are in cahoots with them!"

"Let me explain, _s'il vous plaît._ _Je t'en supplie_ " whispered Clopin. His voice getting feeble, his legs about to give away.

"Guards! Seize this man!" ordered the monarch and the soldiers began to walk towards Clopin. Fronsac was faster and grabbed the Rom from behind, putting safely inside the protection of the sanctuary. Seeing the reaction of the sovereign against the gypsy king, the flute was heard and the wolves descended into the streets like an angry cloud of hornets. People began to run in all directions. Phoebus and his men took out their swords and Esmeralda came out to drag Quasi inside, along with the royal court. Fronsac leaned Clopin against the wall and helped him breathe again, taking out the puppet. The dark eyes of the Rom shone with a tired light, slightly red.

"You must be the biggest fool I know, but the bravest one too. Good to know you haven't lose your touch, despite the years and the flesh"

" _All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail! I come_

 _To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,_

 _To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride_

 _On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task_

 _Ariel and all his quality_ " recited Clopin with a smile, almost like a whisper.

"One of these years, I have to ask you to teach me how to fly, old friend" whispered Fronsac.

"I will, _mon ami_. Once I found my wings, I will" both men smiled and glanced at the people downstairs. "I have served too many masters, the time had come for me to be King and this role I shall do with joy"

* * *

Little facts of interest for everyone: In alchemy, Air is represented with the colors yellow and purple, along with blood as one of the four humours and a triangle with a straight line in the middle.

Moving on!


	9. Chapter 9

Author's note: Moving on towards the depths of the garden…

* * *

 **9\. The Deer and the Wolf**

Fronsac's hounds barked loudly as the door opened letting them on the wolves, which began to run towards the safety of the shadows as soon as they saw them. The large dogs grabbed hold of those which stayed behind and held them from their masks, shook them hard and let them go. It was a strange mixture between a tag-of-war game and a real life hunt. The wolves had no choice but to disappear among the buildings, leaving the masked figure alone. After some long minutes, Fronsac called his hounds back and Paris stopped holding its breath. Captain Phoebus was in awe. That old man was not to be taken lightly.

Meanwhile, the king and his sister were arguing about what had just happened while Pierre listened to his friends. The other children spoke of his Oncle with great wonder and how great he was, the best gypsy of them all. A real Rom. Many Parisians still remembered how the puppeteer had rallied them against Frollo and often gave him the more than honorable title of King of the People. Pierre felt great when he heard those comments, but somehow he was reminded of his mixed origins. Son of the blonde captain and the green-eyed Rom, dark haired, slightly tanned but not a gypsy. Never a true one. Pierre watched as Quasi helped Clopin sit one of the pews to regain his breath. Was his Oncle ashamed of him because he wasn't really part of his kin? The child wasn't sure.

"Am all right, Quasi. _Je vais bien. Ne t'inquiète pas pour moi_ " smiled the gypsy and the hunchback went to check on his other friends after some encouragement. Pierre looked away. He admired Clopin so much; he didn't want to contemplate the idea of letting him down. " _Pourquoi es-tu silencieux, mon enfant?_ Why are you so sad?" the Rom's voice was still merely a whisper, but enough to make tears flow from Pierre's eyes. The boy ran into the thin arms of his Oncle, who held him tight. "What's wrong, _mon petit soldat_? You know I can't stand your tears, they are like daggers to my heart"

"… Do you like me, Oncle? Are you proud of me?"

"But, of course! You don't have to ask. You're my nephew! _Ma fierté et ma joie_! The brightest _fantassin_ in Paris!"

"But I'm not a Rom like you, Oncle. I'm not a gypsy. I'm not part of the Court and I'm not as brave as you are. You must be angry at me"

" _Connerie_!" Clopin shook his head. "You're Essie's child… and your father's" he added that last part after a few seconds. "I might not like Dweebus, but you are blood, my son. _Vous êtes de la famille_! You might not have a gypsy father, true, but you have the guts. You are just like me! Optimistic, full of dreams and always willing to help your kin" Clopin gently held his nephew's chin. "Pierre, you're only five years old, you have a whole world to see"

"I wasn't brave this afternoon"

"Nobody is when they are staring at their own death, _mon enfant_. I will always be proud of you, Pierre. Don't even think otherwise" the Rom smiled. "When you arrived, I wanted to blame your father. I really felt like that, believe me. He had made your Maman pregnant. But when I saw you, so small and yet so strong, grasping my tunic with all your might, I realized that I wasn't angry. I was happy, I've never been so happy. I had a nephew, someone I could call blood, love, teach and protect. _Tu es mon ange, Pierre_ "

"…" the child buried his head in the tunic and Clopin held him. Pierre was still scared, thinking that the wolves were going to eat him. The Gypsy King couldn't blame him. Quasimodo walked towards them. Pierre was now breathing more easily, half asleep in his Oncle's lap.

"Perhaps I should stay here, until I'm feeling better" Clopin looked at the bell-ringer. The young man nodded.

"What did you mean earlier when you said crown?" asked Quasi.

"I wasn't talking about that _enfant gâté_ ; his jewels are not valuable to the wolves. I was thinking of something barer looking"

"… The skull" the hunchback had understood.

" _Précisément_. If we bring it back, it will be over" Clopin gently caressed Pierre's dark brown hair before getting up with the boy in his arms. They went quiet for a few minutes until Quasi made up his mind.

"… Clo, they knew my father. The wolves. Why?" they exchanged a glance. "Please"

"Not now, _mon ami_. Later"

"Clopin, please" Quasi bit his lip. "I know you're tired and everything, but… I need to know. I really do"

"(Sigh) Your father was there that night. He killed Courtaud. He was the hero, I was just the fool"

"You… you were both there?!"

"I know what you are thinking, _mon enfant_ , but don't correct me. Your father did the right thing, I didn't. Paris might not remember his name, but I do. His death was a bigger loss than what you think"

"What do you mean?"

"Your father was a brave man. He killed Courtaud to protect Paris, I slain the last wolf out of fear for my life"

"Wait, so… That skull is not Courtaud's?"

"No. It belongs to someone else, someone more dangerous. And he's back with all of his monsters to have his head back" Clopin felt his arms shaking. The King frowned in his direction but the Rom paid no attention as he put Pierre in his father's arms. "Take good care of him, _monsieur_ " they both saw the royal court leaving the building.

"When have we not?" snorted Phoebus. The Rom sighed and began to walk away. "Hey, Clo" the captain looked at his son. Clopin turned to face him. "Thanks for being there. You might have a big crown, but you are every inch a real king" the Rom smiled.

"I'll stay with Quasi for a few days. If you need me, you know where to find me" the gypsy smiled but before he could go on, Esmeralda hugged him from behind. "I'll be fine, _mon ange_ "

"Please, don't do anything stupid, Clo. The Court needs you, I need you"

"I know, Essie. And for that reason, I'm going to stay here to keep them and you safe. If that spoiled _enfant_ can't arrest me, they can't make me talk" he held her beautiful face.

"Come back soon, all right?"

"Before you can say Trouillefou, _mon beauté_ " Clopin kissed her gently and walked upstairs with the help of Fronsac and Quasimodo. The sun went away quietly; the gamekeeper left Paris before dusk while the hunchback sat beside the sleeping Gypsy King. A figure slid through the rooftops until it reached the window of Pierre, who was having one last game with his mother before going to bed. Esmeralda always entertained her child with tales of her childhood, always told before by Clopin. When it was finally time for bed, Pierre sat on his bed.

"Maman"

"Yes, dear?" Esme sat beside him.

"Do you think Oncle is brave?" asked Pierre. He was sure of the answer, but the child wanted his mother's point of view. She understood this and smiled.

"He's brave in many ways. Oncle puts every single Rom before him, he gives them food, shelter and joy. He sometimes acts a little bit like a coward, but because he knows he can't save us all. Is a sad truth, but important too" Esmeralda explained. "This afternoon, I bet he was really scared and yet there he was. Standing over the crowd to address those wolves"

"He looked like a real king, even more than Charles"

"Your Oncle knows how it's done. He knows how to say the right words and make you believe. But I want you to understand something, _chérie_ "

"What?"

"Your Oncle is not your father. Clopin cries, gets desperate and angry too. He's not a soldier, Pierre. He's very fragile"

"Maybe that is why he was shaking this afternoon" Pierre remembered how his uncle held him.

"Maybe, but that only makes him braver" she got up and kissed him, before putting him in bed. "We'll go see him tomorrow"

"Ok, mom. Good night"

"Good night, _mon ange_ " Esmeralda kissed him on the forehead and closed the door behind her. His husband was there and he smiled. "He's really worried about Clo"

"I'll be too if I were him, but I'm sure he's fine" Phoebus embraced his wife and she leaned on his chest trying to find some comfort. "Don't worry, Essie. He's been in Frollo's dungeon several times and survived. Clopin's a tough bone"

Pierre was still for a few seconds until he noticed someone had slipped something into his tunic. It was Oncle's puppet, his tiny self. The child smiled and held it close as if it was his favorite relative. After some minutes, he was about to fall asleep when he heard something. A tiny sound. Someone was rapping against his window and it wasn't Quasi, it was the masked man!

* * *

Listening to Lisa Gerrard while doing this.

Wonderful.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note: Making the night a little deeper into the woods, where the wolves sing.

* * *

 **10\. Host of the Seraphim**

There were many nights when Clopin woke up only surrounded by his memories, filled with deep memories, monsters, nights in the caravans and pine trees encaging his body to the point of suffocation. He never got to reach the end of the trail of the forest inside his dreams, he was always afraid of what could be at waiting for him and yet he ran towards until the trees claimed him. In times like that he really felt torn, like two different beings buried inside a single small space, coexisting in peace and yet always opposite.

This was one of those nights and while his body remained in the bed Quasi had prepared for him, his mind drifted into those woods to look for answers. He once found there how to make a hero out of a lonesome hunchback, perhaps it was time to go back and he wasn't wrong. The woods did take him somewhere, but not where he wanted. The path led him straight into La Gudule's cell in the monastery. They had known each other for years, and she was responsible of his crowning as gypsy king. She knew many things and did many others but, since her life in confinement started, she had somehow become distant with her kin and wanted nothing from the Rom. What could La Gudule want with Clopin? The Rom Baro was clueless but as soon as he stepped in, Clopin noticed the tarot cards.

"You know, there is something called knocking, _chér_. It gives people a hint that you are visiting" huffed the puppeteer.

"I missed you too, Clo. How's my little homunculus coming along?" she turned and smiled.

"I think I told you to not call me that, and I'm not well, thank you. I'm in constant pain and I've never been so torn with Ari. May I start believing this is your doing or non?"

"Of course, it's not me. I made you this way, why would I want to destroy you, my perfect creation? The one responsible of your throbbing is someone who keeps summoning Ariel, someone who doesn't get the hints. But, before I go ramblin' and so on so forth, come see your fortune. C'mon, don't be shy. I know you want it badly" La Gudule pointed at the three cards on her table. The first one, the Fool. "In your past, there is the vagabond, the main character of your story: you. And nothing else. Bit lonely, am I right?"

" _Continue_ " Clopin scowled.

"Your present" the Devil. Clopin felt a shiver down his spine. "Your enemies and again, you. Clopin, Gypsy King, seduced by the material world and all the physical pleasures; lust, money and power" she gave out an evil giggle and he frowned deeply. "But, oh! Also living in fear, domination and bondage; being caged by an overabundance of luxury. Caged within himself for the rest of eternity. Tied up to those he loves"

" _Ça suffit!_ " barked the gypsy.

"Let's check your future, I'm curious. What about you?" she unveiled the last card: The Magician. Clopin blinked. "Hmm. Perhaps in the end, you'll find that charitable soul that shall free you but who knows? There will be choices and directions to take. Guidance can arrive through one's own intuition or in the form of someone who brings about change or transformation. You are turning a new leaf, little one. The gypsy king will soon be no more"

"… Why?" the Rom bit his lip and closed his eyes shut. "You said…"

"I love the company and having my own little slave, but who am I kidding? I don't want your original master to come and make meatballs out of me. You want to stay and it's a lovely idea, but the longer you remain here the more you will be trapped inside that pine and in that flesh bag. Your choice" a long silence followed only broken when the Gypsy King began to breath slowly.

"… Perhaps I don't care anymore" whispered Clopin.

"Sorry?"

"Look at me. I was just a child when I became this. Not an air spirit. Not human. _Une créature_ " the Rom took off his gloves and stared at his skin. "You saved a boy from being killed by the soldiers by trapping your slave inside the perfect cell and all because he was in love and he had to take care of his adopted little sister. The woman he wanted married Quasi's father, Esme got married and all that was left was me, _le bouffon_ " he leaned on the table and pressed his hands tight shut. "That boy is dead now, the spirit is half asleep and I'm something in between. I laughed this afternoon when my nephew said if I was upset because he's half and half. Hu! _Comment puis-je_? I'm the one with no clear blood"

"Clo, stop hitting around bush, please. You have grown to attached to them and that can't be good"

"I don't mind not being king anymore, I really don't. Frollo's gone and the world's becoming a different place. _Le monde de la renaissance_ " Clopin wheezed. "It's Esme and my family I'm worried about" he looked at her.

"… Agh, fine! You're a real pain, _chér_. I´ll let you stay with them until you have tied everything tight and then you'll let me be and you'll go back to your island. Deal?"

" _Accord_ " they shook hands. La Gudule smiled and led him to the further side of the room where Clopin saw a wolf mask similar to the skull in the plaza.

"Your nephew is a strong-headed one, something he took after you, that's for sure. He's going to be very useful in this quest"

"Why are we here? _Pourquoi parlez-vous de Pierre_?"

"He's about to see what's behind all this. He's a smart kid, I must admit, but he can't do this alone" the witch grabbed some red paint from her desk and painted several symbols on the mask. "Your friend Fronsac hasn't told you, but things ain't pretty back home. There is more at stake than a stupid king"

"What are you talking about, Agnes? Speak French, woman. _Parler en français, femme!_ " growled Clopin and she smiled. A red tear felt down from one of the eyes of the mask. "Is that…?"

"I'm sure Big B won't mind if it is for a good cause. Your body will be left behind, but still alive and in good hands so relax" La Gudule smiled. "It's time to see the end of the trail, Clo, find out that what you fear"

"Ah-ha. _Es-tu sûr de ça_? It's starting to give me the shivers. _Je n'aime pas ça_ " Clopin swallowed hard. He had a similar experience while learning with Fronsac but he never felt like this. "What if I forget? Or lose myself?"

"Ye won't. I'll make sure of that and Big B won't let you, so just stick to the plan"

"I hope you're right about this"

"You're my little homunculus, remember? I'm not interested in killing you, just make you suffer from time to time"

"That surely helps. Ugh, never mind! _A plus tard_!" Clopin breathed deep and put on the mask. An intense pain ran though his whole body and for a moment, he thought he was going to die in that place. The world spun around him like a mad carnival, his memories coming back like a hammer's hit and suddenly, he could feel everything. Ariel, Quasimodo, Jehan's alchemic spells, Esmeralda, the wolves, the masked figure, Grand ML, Pierre… Pierre? Are you there, lad? Where are you? Where? The world stopped moving, slowly regaining its pace. Clopin blinked. He was in Notre Dame's square and he felt strangely alive. More than before. He was now the beast behind the mask.

* * *

A tribute to Lisa Gerrard and Gigglemeister.

Cheers!


	11. Chapter 11

Author's note: Moving on with marvelous companions like the musical group Malicorne, Tomm Moore, Gabriel Yacoub and Capercaillie.

* * *

 **11\. Pierre's Promenade**

" _Close your eyes,_

 _Let the wolf come near._

' _Round the moon,_

 _She brings you cheer'_

 _Howls the wolf_ "

Pierre had heard many tales of strange creatures visiting humans in the deep of the night, but he never thought he would have one himself. The fiend in his window was wearing white fur clothes to resemble a wolf, but was smaller than what it had seemed before. The mask was carved wood and resembled a lupine mask, but again its owner was the size of a child. Pierre blinked while the stranger opened his window with a small dagger and moved around his bedroom like a man in a foreign planet. The wolf-person crawled around, touching all of Pierre's toys, smelling them and taking mental notes before jumping on the bed. The boy let out a small scream that was quickly hushed when the stranger made a threatening gesture.

Pierre was ready to make a run for his parents 'room when he noticed that the wolf-person was actually his size and was staring at him more at out of curiosity than fear. Who was this creature? The figure didn't answer, it had discovered Oncle's puppet and it seemed to fascinate him. Pierre sat straight and waited, his questions were suddenly answered when a female voice came from behind the mask.

"Clopin" said the stranger.

"Hu?" Pierre was clueless. The leader of the wolves was a little girl?

"Clopin" the wolf-person repeated. She pulled up the mask and revealed the face of a eight year old girl with a long red mane. Pierre was amazed by her green eyes; she looked like one of the fairies in Oncle's tales. "You, Clopin?" she asked.

"Uh, no. Clopin's my uncle"

"You, Clopin" she insisted and seemed happy about it. "You, Magic Man"

"Not really, sorry" said Pierre and the girl growled. "All right, all right. But, say, aren't you with the wolves that are bad?" her snarl became deeper. "Never mind"

"You come with me" the girl stood up. "Must see"

"See? What do you mean 'see'? It's late, it's dark. I'm going to bed" complained Pierre and she didn't take it well. "All right, all right. Mom's not gonna happy about this" the boy got dressed, put the puppet inside his jerkin and looked out through the window. Pierre was surprised to see the large black wolf of the cemetery sitting right below them, so astonished he didn't noticed the puppet having a small peek. "You sure about this?" he turned to the girl. She didn't answer; the girl put on her mask and jumped out of the window pushing Pierre with her. The wolf caught the female on her back and the boy with his jaws before putting him behind the wolf-person. The large beast let out a powerful howl and started to run towards the walls of Paris. Pierre grabbed hold of the black fur and closed his eyes, opening after a few seconds. It was like if they were flying, they went so fast that the houses seemed to disappear into the night. Once they reached the Royal Palace, the wolf growled and began to walk more slowly like trying to avoid making noises. Pierre didn't understand until he noticed the large feast that was taking place. Apparently, the king was celebrating their latest victory against his enemies and had forgotten about the wolves' problem. They could make a clear exit or so they thought until the large beast began to growl again. A solitary figure was walking through the bonfires and had noticed them. The man took out a sword and stood to face the wolf, but then the black animal noticed something, tilted its head and sat down. It wasn't a soldier or the king, it was the Queen! The woman was ready to slice off the beast's head when she saw the expression on the animal's face. It was too… human. It appeared like a mixture between scorn and relief. The wolf panted and yawned, acting amused. Pierre was surprised too.

The beast moved his tail and did a vain gesture. " _Hark!_ _Clopin, God's gift to men is here! Bonjour!_ " the canine barked proudly.

"Well, wolf? What's it going to be?" asked Anne and the beast licked his nose. "Are you going to eat those kids? Or are you here just because you want to make fun of me? Make your choice! Pick your grave"

"(Whining)" the wolf stirred his ears and wrinkled his nose while wagging his tail. He didn't seem to consider the options. The beast was too busy taking a good look at the beautiful female before him.

"He likes you" said the little girl.

"Sure, what's next? Flowers and dead animals at my door step?" growled Anne. The wolf shook his head and showed his fangs. "Done playing? If you get serious, I might go easy on you" the Queen then saw how big was the animal with all his black fur standing and his tail moving in circles. "Ready?"

" _Oui. This is how I get my fang-tastic self across. Pun intended, chérie_ " the wolf snarled and got ready. " _Let's dance_!" the beast and Anne ran towards each other and the wolf evaded the sword's swing with ease. Pierre had to hang tight as the black animal jumped up and round to avoid getting hit, over and over. Both the boy and the girl got off after a few rounds, while the battle went on. The Queen was by far a wonderful opponent and was more than close but she never touched the black fur. The beast was having too much fun running around her, pulling from her clothes or her sword when it wasn't tackling the woman from the sides or avoiding her hits. The dance between them went on for a few minutes until the wolf was able to pull away the weapon and jumped over the woman. Anne feared for her life but the beast only licked her lips in a playful manner. " _It takes two to tango, mon amour_ " Anne pushed him away and the wolf barked happily. The voices of soldiers and guards broke the playful mood and the beast picked up again his two passengers before running towards one of the sides. " _Hope you'll forgive this petit intrusion, dearest. Talk to you soon. Au revoir_!" the wolf ran towards the walls and howled high.

The voices of the distant forest answered and they ran even faster. Paris got up all of a sudden from the noises and one of the first ones to notice what was going on ran to warn Esmeralda and Phoebus.

* * *

Couldn't help myself and put some Waka in the mixture!

Enjoy!


	12. Chapter 12

Author's note: Moving on with careful steps into the dark…

* * *

 **12\. Six Bells**

" _They'll plunder willy-nilly,_

 _Say the bells of Caerphilly._

 _They have fangs, they have teeth,_

 _Shout the loud bells of Neath._

 _Even God is weary,_

 _Say the moist bells of Swansea._

 _What will you give me?_

 _Say the sad bells of Rhymney"_

Quasimodo was asleep, so deeply he didn't hear the howls of the wolves in the distance. His mind was too full of questions to mind the sounds or so it was until he heard the unmistakable voice of the bells. Its song was sad, almost mourning, but powerful and it woke the boy up from his slumber. The bell-ringer looked around, hoping to see that it was his friends playing jokes but, much to his surprise, the toll came from beyond the walls of Paris. Quasi remembered then that Esmeralda had mentioned that Courtaud and the wolves came from the forest of Rambouillet, and the bells were ringing in that direction but it made no sense. How come they could hear them from so far? The hunchback glanced at Clopin, who was still deeply asleep. Did the puppeteer know something he didn't?

"Quasi?" Laverne and the other were awake.

"Do you guys hear it?" the young man looked towards the balcony.

"Hear what?" asked Hugo. The bells tolled again in the distance. "Oh, that. We thought it was you doing rehearsals for tomorrow"

"It comes from Rambouillet. It sounds troubled" Quasi walked to the railing. (Back then, they had no phones so church bells had to do that job, duh!)

"You don't think they are in some mess, right?" Victor looked towards the forest. It was too dark beyond the walls of Paris.

"I'm not sure, but it can't be a coincidence. First, the skull, the attacks of the wolves and now this. We have to do something" he walked back inside and checked on Clopin. "I have to get Esmeralda and Phoebus, but I can't leave him here all alone. No offense"

"None taken" Laverne checked the pulse of the Rom. "He's doing all right, but maybe you should take him with you. Just in case"

"You sure?"

"Hey, we are good at nursing. We'll manage, after all we took care of you for more than twenty years" smiled Hugo.

"That's very noble and all that, but there's a teeny-tiny problem" said the oldest gargoyle.

"What?"

"If something happens, no one will be able to notice us, you dim wit!" grumbled Victor.

"How come?" asked the pig.

"Cuz no one else can talk to us, you buffoon!" Laverne gave him a smack. "Don't mind us, boy, but your friend. Am sure you'll think of something, Quasi. Don't worry"

"I just hope you're right" the hunchback gently scooped the Rom and was surprised to notice how light he was. "I'll be back as soon as possible, I promise"

"Be really careful this time, Quasi. I got a bad feeling about this one" the old gargoyle whispered and the young man walked down stairs. The Archdeacon was asleep so the bell-ringer had no problems to leave the cathedral and go towards the house of Phoebus. Once at the front door, the young man was surprised to see some sort of ruckus going on inside. Before he could knock, the front door opened and he found himself standing before a troubled Esmeralda.

"Uh, I-eh, hi, Esmeralda!"

"Quasi? How did you… Never mind. Get in!" she helped him inside and they laid Clopin down on one of the beds. "What are you doing here?"

"I, uh, well I heard bells in the distance. It sounds like trouble, or so I think. Maybe I overreacted" the hunchback noticed then tears on her eyes. "Esme, are you ok? What's going on?"

"Pierre's gone" she sobbed.

"What?" Quasi was breathless. "Ho-how? When?"

"We don't know. Djali woke us up all of a sudden and when we got to his room… he was gone! Vanished into the thin air! Oh, Quasi! I don't know what to do. I'm trying to think where did he go but I'm running out of ideas" Esmeralda looked for some comfort in his friend's arms. "Phoebus is talking to all of our neighbors and without Clopin's wisdom, I feel lost"

"He'll turn up soon enough, you'll see"

"What if he doesn't? He must be so scared and cold"

"He's a brave little fellow. Pierre is a smart kid, I'm sure he's ok" Quasi smiled. He knew that those words were only to calm them both and that made him shiver.

"Thanks, Quasi. You're absolutely right" the woman sighed. "You said something about some bells"

"Ouh, yeah, right, those! They are ringing right now and the sound comes from Rambouillet. I don't know if it has something to do with all this mess but since the wolves come from that town, well. I, uh, also think that's not a mass they are playing but asking for help. And if those wolves spoke about children, well, uh"

"C'mon" Esmeralda got up and they went to fetch Phoebus. The blonde captain was skeptical, but they had little to discuss. Once Esme made up her mind about something, there was no point in arguing. They took Clopin to Claire at the Court and headed towards the walls of Paris. The King and his men were there trying to decide the best way to defend the city.

"Ah, Captain! Right on time" Charles smiled. The young monarch walked to the blonde soldier. "Going somewhere at this hour?"

"I'm afraid yes, your Honor. My son has disappeared and we think it has something to do with the bells that are now ringing in the distance"

"My sister thought the same and is getting ready to get there with Judge Jehan. We need to barricade Paris to confront those monsters and that means I need you here" the monarch puffed.

"Sir, my son needs me. I can't…"

"We've sent men to Rambouillet, Captain. If your son is there, he'll be rescued. As your king, I command you to stay and protect your country. Send the hunchback and your wife home. That's an order" Charles went back to his men. Esmeralda could only stare at her husband. Phoebus was blocked between his family and his duty, he couldn't disobey the king. She wanted to scream at him, but knew that Phoebus couldn't compromise his position one more time. It could mean losing his job and sending his family to destruction. The woman looked down and began to weep. Quasimodo sighed, listening again to the distant toll. It was strange, the 'nearer" they got the fuzzier the sound was. Something was off.

"Uh, Your Highness! A word with thee, if I may" the hunchback walked to the monarch. "You said some men left for the woods, how long has it been since they parted?"

"Ah! You must be the famous bell-ringer! It's an honor to meet you at last"

"Thank you, sir"

"Why do you want to know about those soldiers?"

"Phoebus' son is a friend of mine. Please, Your Majesty. When did those men leave?"

"Quite a long while ago. Why?"

"Because I think your men are in real danger, sir. Those bells are crying for help and it's funny that they haven't been silenced by now if those men really got there" Quasimodo pointed out. Phoebus and Esme shared a glance, their friend was right. Something was terribly wrong and that could only mean that Pierre's life was on the line. "We must act"

"We can't just run into the woods without a plan! I understand your concern but this is stupid"

"…"Quasi's breathing hitched and Esmeralda burst.

"You have just sent your men to die! And my son, my Pierre, an innocent boy along with them! And you are not going to send help? What kind of a king are you?"

"I understand your anger, woman, but control that tongue of yours. Your Gypsy King is no better than me"

"My king cares for his people and would never, EVER, send his comrades towards a certain death, unlike you monster!" barked Esmeralda and his husband pulled her back.

"Captain, take your wife home NOW!"

"Yes, sir! C'mon, Essie" Phoebus dragged her towards Achilles.

"Mark my words, you spoiled brat! If something happens to my son, I'll throw you to the wolves MYSELF!" Esmeralda pulled and fought but the soldier was finally able to take her away while Quasimodo ran to find the Queen. He found her just in time, looking at a map along Jehan.

"Quasimodo. What are you doing here?" the judge frowned. "Your Honor, this is the bell-ringer of Notre Dame. The man I told you about"

"Nice to meet you, _Monsieur_ " Anne smiled.

"Same to you Your, ahem, Honor. I, uh, I need your help. A boy has been kidnapped and the village in Rambouillet might be in great danger"

"The Queen saw a wolf carrying two children a while ago, which must be the one you are talking about" Jehan explained.

"How are you so sure about that, my good man?" asked Anne.

"The bells. They have been ringing for a long while and yet their tolling is strange. Something's not right. The men your brother sent might be dead by now" answered the hunchback. "I know you have no reasons to believe me, but it's my best proof. Please, Your Majesty. Pierre is like a little brother to me"

"I understand" Anne nodded and walked to her horse. "Ride with me"

"Uh, I, well" the hunchback blushed

"Your Majesty, he's a peasant and he's…" said Jehan, trying to look stern.

"I don't care for your protocol or rules right now, Judge. Our people have need of their King and that's what they'll get" the Queen insisted and Quasi climbed on the stallion while Jehan got unto his. "To Rambouillet then"

"Yes, Madam" nodded the hunchback.

"Hold on tight" Anne gently hit his steed and they started a mad race towards the woods followed by at least ten armed soldiers. Jehan rode next to the Queen and kept a hand next to his sword. An hour of travelling went by like a dream and they were soon surrounded by the green paradise and smells of the woods. According to the map, they were standing in front of the entrance of Rambouillet. There was a strange silence in the air. The bells were still ringing but it was like a hollowed whisper, a ghostly sound coming out of nowhere. It made no sense. Quasimodo moved the branches aside to have a better look while Anne talked to his men. Jehan stood right next to the bell ringer. Their hearts stopped dead. The beautiful town of Rambouillet was no more. It had been swallowed by the forest and instead of its villagers; an angry swarm of wolves was waiting for them.

* * *

Surprise, surprise!

Plot twist!


	13. Chapter 13

Author's note: Many things taking place, events on the horizon and friends that are gone…

* * *

 **13\. De Natura Rerum**

The moon began to appear in the distance and Pierre lied down on the soft black fur of the wolf, tired as he was, keeping the puppet held against his chest. The masked figure said nothing just pointed towards a fallen log in the depths of the forest. If they wanted a chance against the monsters of Rambouillet, fatigue was something they had to avoid at all costs. But there was no sign of the village anywhere, the ghostly song of a church bell was all they could hear and that gave Clopin no comfort. He knew those woods well and the legends that lived hidden in those tall trees. The soft rain, the colorful petals, animals and sounds… Yes, this was once his home for seven years, after the winter of Courtaud. Rambouillet was indeed beautiful but also dangerous under the pale moon. Parisians had no idea of the creatures lurking in those woods. He did.

"Oncle" whispered Pierre and the wolf moved his ears. This kid was surely something if he could see him through all his disguises. "Are there more like you? More little men like the one of your story?" the boy caressed the dark fur and the beast moved his tail. Clopin panted and looked around the log, not answering until he saw the masked girl moving a hidden trapdoor. _A hunter's den… Fronsac's_. They slid in and found a comfy cavern filled with straw, blankets and enough hidden away to keep unwanted companies away. The large animal yawned, stretched and lied down putting Pierre on his middle to keep him warm. "Oncle? I can't sleep"

"(Whine)" Clopin gave him a big kiss with his large tongue, making the boy laugh and they lied down. In the dark of the den, the Gypsy King's voice seamed a little tale into the night. " _Il y avait une fois_ … Once upon a time, the dark had no eyes or ears. It was just pitch dark and gloomy, a creature lurking in the corners of the days. Lonely as it was, it was far too vicious and stupid. The gods knew better and thus they gave the shadows something they could use: ravens of crimson eyes to be their eyes and little men to serve and be their ears. It was an intelligent gift, for these creatures had a will and a heart. _Ils étaient vivants_! Their souls made out of dandelions, rain drops and insects. For many centuries, they served and followed the shadows. The Lord of the Dark was pleased but out of boredom or deception, he ate many of his minions and turned them into more shadows. _Dieu_! And as you recall, the rest of those servants escaped into the night, leaving only the ravens and a loyal one to stay behind. The one that followed the wind used to live in these woods after he defeated the large Courtaud, existing somewhere between sleep and awareness. For seventeen years, he played along the song of the rivers, the whispers in the branches and the voice of the animals. He was happy, he was everywhere at once. _Il était libre_! His once beloved angel was now far away with another man and his brothers lost in the breeze. How he could have dream forever! But, alas, non! _Le destin est capricieux_! And so is the heart! In his lovely domain, our windy friend started to miss his brothers and sisters. He was remained of how alone he truly was and that almost killed him. It was then when the little man heard someone crying…"

"Who was it?" whispered Pierre.

"A little good _ange_. She was crying hard and prayed over and over, 'Please, don't take my brother away. Please let him live'" Clopin closed his eyes. "Poor little ange! Frollo had raided a gypsy camp and had only left two survivors: your mother, who was that little girl, and…"

"You" said the child.

"(Chuckle) _Presque moi, mon cher_. I was and I wasn't, it's hard to explain but yes. I was one of the survivors. Trying to outrun that devilish black horse, I felt down a ravine and almost got Esme and myself killed. _Moi_ more than her. As I lay almost dead in a farmer's house, Esmeralda's prays reached our windy friend and a nearby convent, where the little man's _ange_ lived, a good witch who has to act as a nun. They both went to the farm and saw something no one else had noticed. I was very similar to the little man, we were almost like twins, and I was in my death bed. The witch knew that their time so short so she only asked one thing from the little girl: a puppet, a toy built by me. Esme didn't know then the consequences but she did as told. That very night, and for the first time in three hundred years, the so-called Devil's Organ, the secret of the God's forge, was put at work and I was brought back to life with the Wind Man as my new heart"

"WOW! So, you ARE two people at the same time"

" _Vous êtes un garçon intelligent_! That's right. The little minion and I became one, and we have lived together since. It isn't always easy, but thanks to him I was able to take care of your mother and help Quasi. Whenever we want to switch all we need is my Clopin puppet"

"Ouh, ok. But, Oncle, the Devil's Organ…"

"It's just a name, _mon enfant_. No biggie. It is one of the biggest secrets ever kept. I dunno the whole recipe, but I remember seeing crystals, thread, flowers, snow, water, gold, black sand and other elements. Only the oldest alchemists know how to use it, _l'esprit vous_! No one must know when it's used"

"Yes, Oncle" Pierre nodded. "And the other little men?"

"Alas! I ask the ravens whenever I get the chance, but nothing has been heard of them since the day of the runaway. One day, I will have to go back to the pine and get back the missing part before trying to find them"

"And the one that stayed behind? Do you think he's all right?"

"Piccolum is the youngest of all and who knows. Sometimes I fear the worst"

"Oncle" they shared a glance. "When you have to leave, can you do something for me?"

"Anything for you, _mon fantassin_ "

"Will you please come and tell me one last story, please?"

" _Avec joie, mon prince_. And now, off to bed. We have a long way to go" they both closed their eyes. Little did they know that a small figure was watching the fallen log from the top of the trees.

* * *

Back again and ready.

Little pieces start to make the whole picture!


End file.
